Indeed by hoarding is getting worse. Each year, the accumulation seems to grow. Sometimes when sitting alone and thinking about all the fly fishing stuff and what I would do with it if something happens to me... I get even more confused.
I don't know anyone that would want all this crap. I have a good number of fly fishing friends that could certainly use some of the stuff. I guess I could donate it to a fly fishing/fly tying group somewhere and they could use it or auction the crap off for funds for their club. That sounds like a pretty good idea I think.
Anyhow, here today I want to share a little more of this disease I suffer from.
This is what they call a "spinner rack" and I got this from the mercantile store I work. Very handy instrument since you can stand in one spot and spin it until you find what you're looking for. This particular rack holds beadheads, saddle hackles, and marabou.
Here's another spinner rack and this one holds CDC, a lot of flash, some turkey, duck, and some specialized materials.
And yes, there is a third spinner rack that holds zonker strips, dubbing, ostrich herl, peacock herl and an assortment of other stuff.
There are a lot of caps. Caps from Fly Rod & Reel, Oklahoma Department of Wildlife, Outdoor Oklahoma, Bass Pro, and a good number from the Blue River Trout Derby.
More caps... Old West Fly Shop, Blue River Fly Fishers, and Temple Fork Outfitters.
Now, this isn't exactly a cap, but, rather than a Santa Claus hat. Each year around Christmas time I take this hat and put it over the crown of that old cowboy hat I wear and then wade out into the river Blue. My way of celebrating the Christmas season. Weird? Maybe.
There are plaques hanging on the wall from trout derbies past.
Awards on this wall, and awards on that wall.
And then.... there are do-dads. Lots and lots of do-dads. So many do-dads I forget where they came from.
One day at work, a guy came through my area carrying this and told me he was fixing to take it to the dumpster. I said, "Oh no, no, no! That fish represents an epic battle and special moment... let me have it!' He did. And now, I have one more piece of hoarding history.
Of all the things in the hoarding room this plaque is the most precious. This is a hand-crafted plague made by a friend of mine when I went on the 2005 Trout Bum Tourney. The gentleman that created it was one of the kindest, considerate men I've known in life. He went to fish the big waters of heaven a year ago this month.
I keep old fly fishing calendars. Why? I don't know... maybe it's because they mark time. Or maybe it's because they have pretty pictures on them.
Sure, I would entertain the idea of a professional organizer to help with my hoarding problem. However, in all honesty it would probably end up being a battle royale.
The organizer would most likely be a lady - a most likely patient and sweet lady. A patient and sweet lady that would make the mistake of picking up something and asking me that question.
"Mr. Shrader, do you think this is something you could let go of?"
"No way sister... a guy named Stillwater Blue give that to me in March of 07. Just put it down please."
"Okay, okay, that's fine. How about this Mr. Shrader?"
"Uh-uh, forget it, ain't going to happen. I found that dollar bill submerged in Rock Creek whale fly fishing for carp. Just put it back and step back."
"Well then Mr. Shrader, surely you can let go of this?"
"Mam, this session is over. I'm asking you to leave now please."
Yeah, hoarding is a mess.